


the days they can be long

by AngeNoir



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Caretaking, Comfort, Domestic, Intimacy, M/M, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Phil wanted was to veg out in front of the television, alone, and not think about the piling duties he still had to deal with. Of course, Tony's home early, and Phil loves him, he does. He just... wants some peace and quiet.</p><p>He underestimated Tony, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the days they can be long

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lasairfhiona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasairfhiona/gifts).



> Sorry; I know it's short! I hope this works. I wasn't quite sure in which direction you wanted this to go.

Phil had had a long, tiring day. Being the Avengers’ handler was always a study in the impossible. Take today, for example. Today was a study in just how strange his world had become. Not only had he had to deal with Loki deciding to turn Thor’s physical body into something that resembled a cross between an alligator and a moose, but Clint had once again jumped from a tall building, only this time there had been no one nearby to catch him quickly. Wanda and Steve had managed to slow down his descent and catch him, respectively, but debris had already shattered ribs and given Clint a concussion that had knocked him out. That was this morning; Clint had been in medical the whole day and just an hour ago had he woken up. The brain damage was minimal – some spotty points in recent memory, and an inability to keep things in recent memory. The doctors were optimistic, though, that that would soon disappear and his recent memory would be back to normal.

Rhodes was off with Barnes; the two of them had become a frightfully efficient team over the past couple years. Phil was worried, because normally Rhodes, at least – Barnes was a hit or miss at the best of times, checked in at the set time. The time had passed, though, with no check-in, and Phil knew objectively he should let his agents work the way they needed to. One missed check-in time was not enough to sound the alarm.

…On the other hand, he was highly protective of the Avengers and he had too much experience with this team. One break in protocol normally meant something had gone wrong somewhere and probably needed back-up.

He didn’t have any solid evidence to back up his worry, though, so he’d have to wait until the third check-in time was past.

The rest of the Avengers had various complaints and issues – he had to deal with Natasha’s interaction with some junior agents, with their PR rep about Bruce’s fiasco and Fox News’s attack on modesty (and the by-now familiar claim that the Avengers team was a giant heathen orgy non-stop) since the polymer pants Tony had designed for Bruce apparently wore out, and they’d had a naked Hulk running around last battle. Steve had said something honest and good in front of the press that they’d managed to take out of context; Vision’s humanity was once again a topic for some reason Phil hadn’t completely understood.

Overall, he was just – very tired and just wanted to sink down on the couch and watch bad reality television and eat cheap, saturated-fat-laden takeout.

Stepping into the lobby, Phil waved at the receptionist and moved to the Avengers’ elevator. Once inside, the doors closed and there was a discreet hum as FRIDAY scanned him. “Welcome, Agent Coulson,” FRIDAY said pleasantly. Phil wouldn’t ever say it to Tony – because Tony took it personally, which made it hard for Tony to work well with Vision – but Phil missed JARVIS, missed his voice and his dry wit. FRIDAY had sass, of course (what of Tony’s creations did _not_ have sass?) but the same skepticism and delivery JARVIS had had was missing.

“Good evening, FRIDAY,” Phil said, tired.

There was another hum and then FRIDAY replied, “There is some leftover takeout in the common fridge that is still present. Most Avengers have already retired from the common room, so the television is free.”

The elevator came to a slow stop, and Phil rolled his neck. Before he could exit the elevator, however, FRIDAY hummed again and said, “Sir will join you in the kitchen.”

“Sir?” Phil repeated, pausing.

The doors of the elevator opened and Tony turned around from the island in the kitchen. “Hey, Phil!”

Phil took a deep breath without making it look like he was exasperated. He loved Tony, don’t get him wrong, but he was looking for relaxation, something to take his mind off the troubles he’d had from sunrise to – yeah, it was practically sundown, now. “Hey, Tony,” he responded, smiling at Tony.

“C’mon, sit down, Phil. The food’s almost done heating up, the remote’s on the couch,” Tony said, distracted.

After a few seconds, Phil let out a soft breath and moved to the couch. “I thought you were in Malibu, still.”

“Yeah, got in early. Just a day, you know. Heard the most recent Fox News spiel about Hulk. They’re bringing out that orgy drum again, huh?”

Phil grunted.

Tony came over and sat down next to Phil, handing Phil old Chinese takeout containers. “How bad was Clint today? I saw that fall on the news.”

Phil could guess now why Tony was back – with Rhodes, Carol, Thor, and Tony out, Clint’s usual daredevil tactics were not ideal. It touched him, a little, and he found himself leaning towards Tony, letting his head rest on Tony’s shoulder. “He’s fine. He’s woken up; hopefully medical will be able to keep him still and resting until tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, good luck,” Tony murmured, sighing.

Phil murmured something, but his eyes were drooping shut and he was leaning more and more heavily on Tony’s shoulder. Tony shifted so that he could better support Phil, only Phil ended up slumped sideways.

“This is very uncomfortable, Tony,” he grumbled.

“Look, you’re the uncooperative one here,” Tony said, but Phil could hear the sheepishness in his voice. “Just – put your feet up on the couch. Head in my lap. C’mon, I know how to give you a head massage, you know I do. Hell, I can try to rub out some of the tension you got in your neck, yeah?”

Phil paused, still uncomfortable, and then let out a sigh. “Sure, okay. Thanks, Tony.”

Once Phil was rearranged so that his legs were up on the rest of the couch and his head was nestled against Tony’s thighs, Tony leaned down and pressed a kiss to Phil’s nose. “Hey,” he murmured, bumping his nose against Phil’s.

Phil cracked open his eyes and glared a little at Tony. “I’m really tired, Tony.”

“I know, I know,” Tony murmured, hands going to Phil’s temples. “You look tired. I wish you didn’t work so hard.”

“Pot, kettle,” Phil grumbled.

Tony laughed softly. “You wanna head to an actual bed or—”

“Just – here. Is fine.”

Tony hummed some kind of thrash metal that Phil didn’t recognize as he massaged Phil’s forehead. “Here, I can’t give you a full-body massage though,” he pointed out.

Phil was tempted, thinking the offer over. Tony’s hands on his back sounded heavenly at the moment, but that _would_ involve moving and Phil was not at all certain he wanted to move at all.

“I mean, I could. Give you the massage here. I just question the team’s ability to remain away for that period of time. They always do end up coming in at the wrong moment—”

Phil groaned into Tony’s lap.

Tony stopped talking for a moment, and then shifted. “C’mere.” Moving tentatively, so as not to upset Phil too much, he shifted so that he was off the couch and Phil was lying face down, stretched out on the couch. “I’ll just do a short one, then.”

There would be no arguing with Tony about this, Phil realized, and resigned himself to having an Avenger walking in at the most inopportune time. Not that he had any plans at all to do anything inappropriate, but Clint and Natasha could be incredibly juvenile, and the less said about Steve and Sam’s ribbing, the better.

Tony’s hands came down on his neck, rubbing and pressing until Phil was going limp with pleasure. As Tony worked, he hummed under his breath, some death metal song or something (Phil listened to the classics: Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, some Dolly Parton), and Phil found himself dozing off to sleep.

He dragged himself out of his nap when the couch dipped and those hands stopped pressing against his spine, liquefying it and Phil’s thoughts. “Mmm. Tones,” he mumbled, trying (unsuccessfully) to crack open his eyes and find his lover.

“Shh, Phil. You go ahead to sleep; I’m just gonna get you a blanket.” Tony pressed a gentle kiss to Phil’s forehead and he pulled away before Phil could get enough of his wits about him to protest.

When Tony came back, draping an extremely soft and fluffy blanket over Phil, Phil was more aware, more awake, so that he could grope blindly for Tony. “Tony,” he called.

“Yeah, Phil? You just wanna relax, right?”

“Wanna relax with you,” he sighed. “C’mon. Be my pillow.”

There was a pause, and then fingers ran against his scalp, stroked at the base of his neck. “You sure? Phil, there’s barely enough space for you.”

“Wanna feel your heartbeat,” Phil murmured.

There was another long pause, and Phil knew Tony had to be tired. Whether he took the plane or the suit, it didn’t change the fact that Tony had flown from Malibu to here, today, and had at least a small case of jet lag. Finally, Tony let out a huff of air and then he was gently – awkwardly, he wasn’t the strongest of guys – trying to scoot in next to Phil.

Heaving a sigh, Phil revealed superhuman abilities to push himself up, off the couch, swaying a little, even as Tony squawked about undoing all the work he’d done to make Phil relax. Ignoring Tony – sometimes, you had to, and other times, Tony talked just for background noise and didn’t need people to listen so much as let him – Phil pressed a soft, chaste kiss against Tony’s lips. “Lie down,” he murmured. “Take off your shoes and let me get back to sleeping.”

“Agent always gets his way, huh?” Tony said, but the words were fond, familiar. Phil watched through sleepy, half-lidded eyes as Tony stretched out on the couch, shifting and wincing a little until he found a position he didn’t mind, and then Phil – the fluffy blanket around his shoulders, kneeled down between Tony’s legs and laid down on top of Tony’s chest, careful to shift his weight so he wasn’t putting direct pressure on Tony’s sternum.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Phil breathed, one hand curling up against Tony’s ribs, the other snaking underneath Tony’s back to rub a little at the spot that always gave Tony trouble.

Tony grunted and rearranged himself a little before settling. Already his voice was sounding sleepy and slow, trickling out of his mouth instead of pouring, when he said, “Yeah, well. I missed you, Phil. Missed your competence.”

Smiling against Tony’s chest, Phil mumbled, “I missed you too. Love you, Tony.”

Phil was almost fully asleep when Tony let out a soft sigh, muscles relaxing. “Love you too, Phil,” Tony breathed.

For all that it was a couch, and he knew his back and knees would complain tomorrow, Phil went to sleep happy.


End file.
